


Carved Crosses Aren't Just Wood

by naturallesbain



Series: Dealing With My Problems [1]
Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Both Dallas and Johnny feel guilty for loving men, Eating Disorders, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I drabble into it, I'm dealing with religious trauma can you tell?, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, No smut tho its implied, Period-Typical Homophobia, religious trauma, sorry if this offends anyone but I'm trying to come to terms with my trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26966551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallesbain/pseuds/naturallesbain
Summary: "He's nothin but trouble, ya hear?"This work was inspired by TheRealSEHinton's fic called Trouble, please go read it if you haven't.
Relationships: Johnny Cade/Dallas Winston
Series: Dealing With My Problems [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967866
Comments: 20
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRealSEHinton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealSEHinton/gifts).



"Nothing but trouble," is a catchphrase his mother always sent his way. She was referring to his friends, the Curtis gang if you will. She'd scream about how they were good for nothin' hoods and how he should change.

He already knew that, though.

He knew it in the way he would stare at the oldest Curtis when he was far too young to understand what it meant to be gay. It was back when he would check out the different gang members when they had their shirts off, looking at the different muscles, how they would move and how the muscule under their smooth skin would move with them. 

His father caught him staring once, and that's all it took for Johnny to stop. 

His father had beaten him black, blue, and bloody for catching him staring. Dragging him inside behind closed doors where only he knew what happened. 

They started going to church after that, where Johnny begged the Lord for forgiveness, going onto his knees in front of the six-foot cross to try and repent for his sins. 

He'd hoped for an answer. 

It got to the point where he'd pray before he fell asleep. When he was in his room, he'd get down on his knees on the hardwood floor and pray.

Most days it hurt to do so, his knees banged and bruised from where his father would kick and punch him when he curled in a ball to protect himself. 

He started having thoughts of sins, to touch boys instead of girls, to run off and gorge himself on everything he could find in the kitchen, to fight against his father.

He started punishing himself for his sins rather than praying. He would starve himself, the cravings of food distracting his thoughts as he pushed on through the day with no energy. 

The gang gave him looks, tried to feed him, but he paid no mind. To him it was gluttony, he shouldn't take what was not his in the first place. 

He started to try and beg now, repent for his sins in the forms of confessions to his priest and his father, who had started the whole church thing. He would be made to sit on the floor, kneeling on the hard-wood, facing the wall as he named off the sins he committed, each one earning him one hour of sitting, "repenting". 

The want to sleep with men was almost gone until Dallas Winston showed up more and more; his interest suddenly spiked. He cursed himself whenever he caught himself looking at the man, quickly shifting his gaze down to the floor and keeping it there for the rest of the day. 

This came with more punishments from his father, who demanded he prays and begs for forgiveness. He would be forced to stand now, stand on the balls of his feet if necessary, or if his father felt like he would need to be closer to the heavens in order for his son to repent. 

"Repent or thou shall not see the gates of Heaven!" His father would shout. 

"Repent or thou shall suffer the consequences in Hell" His father would say after every sin listed.

Johnny began to live his life in more fear. He wanted to be accepted, yet to be accepted was for him to sin. 

Johnny repeated Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 more and more as he hung out with Dallas, who had taken a liking to the boy. 

Johnny repeated the words as he carved crosses into his skin, wanting more to be forgiven. 

He cried out to his savior in church, hoping his words reached the heavens where they needed to go. 

"Cry out all you want, only the words of the faithful shall reach God," Johnny's father would say as he beat his son to the ground. 

He carved the words into his skin every time he thought of Dallas. His name felt like a sin on his tongue. 

It was only one night when Johnny had ran from his house when Dallas had decided to walk him to Bucks. He led him to his room and sat him down on the bed, explaining that he knew what he was going through and that he didn't need to fight it alone. 

How could he know, though? How could he know the need to repent for touching another man, the need to repent for having sinful thoughts of another man, how could he know?

"How could you know," Johnny spit out against the darkroom.

"Because the savior you're worshipping is not the one you should beg to for forgiveness," Dallas said sharply.

"Then who should I ask for forgiveness? Is there another God you suppose would enjoy my company for life?" Johnny replied back.

"Yourself," Dallas replied.

That was enough to knock the pair into silence as Johnny thought about what Dallas had just said. It had only been one word, yet it changed the way he thought, challenged his morals, the way he lived. 

"I am no savior, man cannot be saviors," 

"Then why run around, carving crosses into every place a man has touched you and repeating Leviticus under your breath whenever you look at a man," Dallas said with a sharper tone. 

"Because it is sin,"

"Why?"

"Why what? Don't you have a clue as to what you're talking about? About your questioning?" 

"Yes,"

"Then why ask a foolish question," 

"Because you're going to end up dead," 

"At least I'll be going to Heaven," 

"For living a fake life?" 

The banter went on, well into the night. The air had grown thick with tension, undrawn lines of string hurling through the air as one made a remark and one responded sharply. 

The two ended the night at three a.m., finally settling on opposite sides of the bed from one another. 

Johnny could leave, debated it, then decided that there was something more. 

When the two arose the next morning, they got ready in silence. Dallas could tell when Johnny carved crosses with his nails into his skin, watched his mouth move in a silent prayer as he cast his eyes downwards.

The two didn't question it when Johnny showed up at Dallas's door that night, letting him in silently, speaking no words as they both headed to the bedroom.

"About what you said before, what do you mean I have to be my own savior?" Johnny said as he sat down on the side of the bed. 

"Because only you can change your life. Jesus wouldn't treat his followers with such disregard for their life, would he?" Dallas said as a question, leaving room for more of Johnny's opinion. 

"Jesus gives his toughest soldiers more fights," Johnny said with an air of confidence.

"Then why are you so damn tired," Dallas said while sitting next to Johnny. 

The confident aura that Johnny had before was gone. If Johnny were being true to himself, he would say that he didn't really believe in God after what life had put him through, the man who was supposed to protect him hurting him, creating welts across his skin that took days to weeks to heal. 

"I am not," Johnny simply stated while looking into the man's eyes.

"You are, I can see it in your eyes. You're tired of living a life a lie to appease a God that will never take anyone into his Heavens," Dallas said lowly. 

"I will do what I have to," Johnny said shakily. 

"Then do what you need to do to appease yourself," Dallas said.

"I pray," Johnny said with more certainty.

"What about where you touch yourself? What happens when the thoughts of men become too strong? What do you do then?" Dallas said his voice nearly a whisper as he moved in closer to Johnny.

Johnny's breath started to quicken as he was pushed down onto the bed, the older man pinning him to the bed with little chance of escape.

"I pray," Johnny said breathlessly.

"For what?" Dallas asked against Johnny's neck, lips skating across his neck.

"For forgiveness for what I'm about to do," Johnny said before crashing Dallas's lips in an angry and lust-filled kiss. 

The two would end up in the same bed later, the shouts and pleas from the younger man echoing in the air. Dallas opened up to Johnny about his past after they did what they did. He opened up about his father, his trauma from the church, his mother, everything. Johnny just kissed him through whimpers, the two moaning into the kiss as their over-sensitive bodies connected and glided with each other for a second round. 

When Dallas asked Johnny what he was going to do after he got home, he stayed still.

"You can stay here if you'd like, you'd never have to force yourself to be anything you don't want to be," The older man had said.

"This is who I am, though," Johnny replied.

"You can't-" Dallas started before he was cut off.

"I'm gay, and I can't change that. It took me longer to accept it, I am still am. For now I want to lay with you, if you'll let me," Johnny said quietly. He had a small squiggle of shame in the back of his mind, telling him that it wasn't, but that was soon silenced by the way Dallas tugged him into his chest, letting his ear rest against his heart, hands wrapping around his neck. 

"Thank you," Johnny said before falling asleep.

"No problem, Johnnycakes," Dallas said before following Johnny's lead. 

Their dreams were of each other, being accepted, and open about who they were. 

They knew they loved each other that night, too. 


	2. Seeing Through Stained Glass;Let The Sinners Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A part 2 to this original work that was requested by my brother. I am doing this cause I've got so much religious trauma that I need to deal with. 
> 
> With the supreme court nomination today, I would just like to say that even though it might become illegal to get married or legal to commit hate crimes against gay people, I will NEVER fake being someone else. I am Rock and I love women, I am nonbinary, too.

We've been going as a couple for a while now, secret glances and holding of hands under dining room tables. I knew that the hand holding was more for me not hurting myself, but it felt nice to be able to be held by a man. 

I've stopped going back to my parent's house, letting the aches and bruises heal, letting Dallas take care of the sprained bones and aching joints every night. 

I let him take care of my pain. 

I am close to being happy, the joy of waking up and seeing someone who loves me for who I am bringing a flood of warmth through my chest that spreads through my limbs like molten lava and never really cooling throughout the day. 

I've never seen someone look at another man with such joy and love as Dallas does, his small smiles reserved for me able to make my day better, and the way he's always nudging me and holding onto me as if I'm the only thing keeping him grounded in life. 

I probably was, too.

He'd told me everything that night. He told me about his father, his mother, his relationship with the church. 

That's what allowed us to be together; we were both condemned for homosexuality and forced to change who we are because of what they thought was right. 

We both grew to hate the stained glass and wooden walls of our local church, the way the stained glass shined bright and beautiful across the ground when for many people like us, the stained glass covering the hatred and double standards. 

We had started overlooking the church from afar, watching the modestly dressed people enter the church with their family and friends, talking about this and that.

It had been then that I had seen my parents enter the church that one faithful day. I had seen my mother dressed in her finest dress, a rose-patterned one with red heels and pearls while my father was dressed in a baby blue button-up shirt with black slacks and dress shoes. 

I froze when I saw them, my blood running cold for the first time since I had gotten with Dallas. 

We were with the gang that day, they must've seen the way I froze in the middle of the sidewalk and how my eyes must've widened like saucers. 

I still have Darrel to thank for when he pulled me away, pulling me around the corner and continuing to walk as if nothing happened. 

We never talked about what happened when we got to the Curtis house, though the effect of my actions hung heavy in the air like smoke. I could see the way they all took small glances at me throughout the day. 

They all knew that my relationship with the church hadn't been a good one; they've seen the cross scars on my arms when I needed to be patched up after a rumble. 

Dallas ended up leaving at around three that day, saying that he needed to check in with Tim for something. 

He didn't go in the direction of Tim's house, though.

He went in the direction of the churches. 

I had only seen him at around eleven that night, he came home bruised and bloodied, mumbling and rambling on about things that I couldn't comprehend. 

I was scared, I've never seen him this way.

I called Darrel.

They had been there in about ten minutes, the sound of knocking snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled open the door to reveal the gang.

"I don't know what happened, he's been rambling and mumbling about things that don't make sense," I said as I ushered them in. 

I led them to our bedroom where Dallas had been occupying, pacing back and forth with his arms wrapped around him as if he was trying to give himself a hug. 

I heard Darrel sigh before slowly taking steps towards Dallas. 

"Has he done this before?" I said slowly and softly, not wanting to disturb whatever Darrel was doing. 

"Once. You were with your parents and Dallas had gone back to his dad's or something," Ponyboy said, "he had come back bruised and bloody, some of his clothes were torn."

I cringed, my shoulders tensing as I let the information wash over me. 

I thought about who he could've gone to that would leave him so _unleashed_. 

Darrel took a few more steps, only about an arm's length away from Dallas when he snapped his head up, watching us and widening his stance as if he was going to try and fight us. 

"We're not here to hurt you, Dal," Darrel said carefully. 

Dallas narrowed his eyes on Darrel as a wolf does to its prey.

"Dal, calm down. What happened?" Darrel asked slowly.

When Dallas didn't answer, Darrel reached his arm out to try and touch Dallas, but that had been the wrong move. 

The move had been deemed too threatening by Dallas. In a second, Dallas was ontop of Darrel, trying to punch him anywhere it would hurt. 

Darrel was doing a good job dodging the attacks, his quick thinking and muscular build against Dallas's wasn't a problem for Darrel, it was the fact that Darrel didn't want to hurt Dallas that was the problem. 

I tried to think about what would be the best option. Dallas wouldn't stop swinging at Darrel until he had Darrel pinned and Darrel didn't want to hurt Dallas when Dallas was in this state. 

I did what I had to do, I stepped in front of Darrel. 

A flash of recognition went through Dallas's eyes as he stopped lunging for Darrel.

The room's atmosphere was tense, the tense muscles of the men around me as they waited for Dallas to swing at me was a wire in a rainstorm. 

I slowly started to reach out to Dallas, keeping my movements steady and slow, keeping both hands open.

I felt his shoulder tense as I touched it, the muscle on his shoulder rippling under his shirt.

"Dal, what happened?' I asked firmly. 

He seemed to snap out of his spell, his face showing recognition as he shook his head and sat down on our bed. 

We all stood as we let Dallas collect his thoughts, his leg drumming against the hardwood floor, the soft tapping sound the only thing to break the silence. 

"I went to church," Dallas said slowly. 

I could feel the confusion spread around the room, a soft 'huh' from a few gang members were the only sounds they made.

"Why would you do that? You know what could happen!" I scolded as I went to stand in front of him. 

"I just wanted to chat with your parents, but instead they yelled at me and we got kicked out of the service. Your dad started to fight me so I fought back, but some guys overheard the commotion and took your dad's side," Dallas said shakily. 

I sighed and sat down next to him, rubbing his arm soothingly; he tensed under my touch. 

"We need to go. We need to get out of here before they hurt you," Dallas said suddenly.

"Where would y'all go? What's happening?" Steve spoke. I forgot they were here, but now I felt their gaze on my shoulders.

"It ain't safe for us here no more, Steve," Dallas said quietly.

"The hell? What do ya mean?" Steve said urgently.

I glanced over at Darrel, whose eyes were wide.

"'M pretty sure Dar knows what it means," I said quietly. 

The gang looked at Darrel with questioning eyes. I could feel the tension build like a fire, just waiting for a log to fall off and create a burst of flame.

"You too," Darrel started, "you too are gay, aren't you?" 

I felt the air shift, confusion, and shock spreading around the room. 

Both Dallas and I nodded hesitantly, not wanting to become beaten victims in our own home. 

"Oh," was all Darrel said. 

I could feel the energy drain from the room as if the power had turned off.

"And y'all are, y'all are fine with that?" Dallas said hesitantly.

There was a brief moment of pause before nods were passed around the room. 

We both breathed a sigh of relief, glancing at each other, and thinking about how lucky we are to have accepting friends. 

"So why are you leaving?" Pony asked, his voice soft, unlike the others. 

"Johnny's dad told everyone about us, they're probably gonna try and hunt us or drive us out," Dallas said, sitting down on the bed. 

We were all silent, trying to think of what we could do other than run. 

"If we stay we could die, if we run we lose y'all, if we wait we get beat," I said quietly. 

This was one of my fears, the town found out we were gay.

"Not to mention the fact that if we get arrested, they won't just put us in some normal jail, they'll put us in the tougher ones like in New York. They don't treat people like us too kind," Dallas said. 

I sighed and moved to sit on the couch, letting the soft fabric and mattress bring me down to Earth. 

"We should stay, see how long we last and when it gets dangerous we go. I like it here, don' wanna leave," Dallas said, wrapping his arm around me.

"Sounds good," I replied.

"How can we help y'all? There's gotta be something we can do," Soda said.

"Get it out there that we ain't gay. Don' care if ya gotta use slurs to get the point across," Dallas said. 

I felt the room freeze for a split second before I saw Soda shake his head and let out a disgusted face. 

"Ain' usin' no slurs," Soda said.

"Might have to," I said quietly. 

We all let it sink in before the gang bid their farewells; it was late after all. 

We curled up in bed that night, pulling the sheets close and using a heavier blanket to calm our shivers. 

"I don' wanna leave, Dal," I whimpered against his chest. 

I could feel his breathing hitch before he responded.

"Me too, Johnny, me too," 

I curled up closer to him, letting his warmth settle me while the rain lulled me. 

I distantly questioned when it had started raining, the soft pitter-patter against the window along with the steady rhythm of Dallas's heart enough to put me to sleep. 


	3. My Lovers The Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another installment? Who knew y'all would like me dealing with my own trauma.

We had woken up at the break of dawn, chest to chest as screaming and yelling went around downstairs. 

The screams sounded male, the hoarse voices of men and drunken giggles and squeals of women prevalent. 

"You okay?" Dallas said from above me, his voice rough from sleep. 

I nodded slightly, not knowing how to answer with my breath caught in my throat and panic rising in my chest for what felt like no reason. 

"What's goin' on, ya ain't okay so don' say ya 're," Dallas said soothingly. 

I struggled with the panic rising in my chest and the words that got stuck on the tip of my tongue even though I don't even know what to say. 

"I dunno," Was all I could say. I felt Dallas let out a sigh, his heartbeat thumping faster.

Crashes and curses sounded from downstairs, rough screaming and terrified voices being carried upstairs. 

I jumped out of bed, not knowing where I would go, but I just had to go. 

I ran to the bathroom instead. 

I closed and locked it behind me, falling onto the toilet, breath coming out in sharp pants as I bit down onto my knuckles trying to ground myself. 

My vision was hazy, swirling, and stuttering while my breath kept getting sharper. 

I could hear the pounding on the door and Dallas's voice, but it was like he was yelling through water. 

The door breaking open scared me, the splintering of wood and crashing of the door against the wall sounding distorted. Dallas was in front of me, calling my name yet I didn't know how to respond; again. 

"Hey, Johnny, breathe with me, okay? 1,2,3, in, 1,2,3, out," Dallas said. 

I followed his instructions, and they helped; my vision was no longer spinning and my breath was now coming out evenly.

"What happened? Was it the shouting?" Dallas questioned softly, pulling me into his chest.

I breathed in his scent, allowing him to rub my back gently and whisper soothing words as my heartbeat normalized.

"Dunno, but the screamin' is what woke me up. Broken glass 's probably what set me off," I said slowly. 

I felt Dallas nod against me before picking me up and putting me on the counter to bandage my knuckles, which had slowly started to bleed from the constant attention. 

He was gentle when he was patching me up, rubbing water-soaked gauze and disinfectant on the cuts before wrapping them gently as if I had gotten into a fight. 

"Thank you," I said quietly while Dallas was putting away his supplies. 

"Ain't nothin' Johnnycakes," Dallas replied before picking me back up. 

He always knew what I needed, and I always knew what he needed. He knew that I couldn't walk or be alone right now. I'll forever be grateful for him. 

He set me down gently in bed, making sure I was comfortable before getting in and pulling the covers over us. 

We shared a small kiss before we went back to sleep, the chill of the night bleeding away with the kiss. 

I tucked my head into his chest, the feel and sound of his heartbeat under my head calming me enough to go to sleep. 


	4. Funeral Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after the Curtis parents funeral and Dallas shows back up at the church with one thing in mind. 
> 
> The old piano in the basement. 
> 
> This takes place a few months before the incidents that happen in the earlier chapters.

It was the day after the Curtis parents funeral, the sky was an old grey that showed no sign of the sun or any hints of blue. 

It was cold, too, the sting of the winter air harsh against Dallas’s skin as he hugged his leather jacket closer to himself as he made his way to the funeral home.

He’d skipped out on half the funeral, his heart had led him away to a safe space where he could cry and scream. 

Sighing, Dal watched the cloud of his breath fan out in front of him before looking down at his worn boots.

Dallas felt his stomach turn at the memory of when he got the boots.

It was his fifteenth birthday, Mr. Curtis and Mrs. Curtis both got him a pair of black leather boots that would help him in all types of weather. 

He pushed the memory away when he felt tears stinging at the backs of his eyes. 

Looking back up, he realized he was at his destination, the snow piling up at the corners of the old church’s windows as he slowly pushed open the old door and crept inside.

He’d remembered the church from when his mom had died, the old stained glass had been brighter back then and the church was more lively. 

It was practically a ghost town now. 

He crept his way across the church, light on his toes as he made his way towards the front and through another set of old wood doors and creeping down the cement stairs. 

Dallas shivered, the air had been warm when he stepped into the church, but now that he was going down the stairs, the temperature had started to drop, making the hair on his arms stand tall.

Dallas slowly peeked around different corners and down hallways to find what he was looking for.

And he did.

It was a grand piano, able to fit two people on one bench, though playing with two people would be difficult.   
A memory flashed in Dallas’s mind, one of him and his mother playing for the Sunday service. 

His mother had been singing, her voice was angelic-like, something he missed about her. 

Dallas sighed again, stepping through the door and closing it tightly before making his way over to sit down on the bench.

The keys felt familiar beneath his fingers as he dragged them across the piano lightly as to not create so much noise so soon. 

Though he supposed it didn’t matter, he was here for a reason and that was to play the piano. 

He’d tried to remember the song he had played at his mother’s funeral, something Lake.

‘Right, Swan Lake,” Dallas reminded himself, feeling for the starting keys under his hands before starting the first few notes.

It was as if an unused memory was keeping these melodies to itself all this time, and Dallas just had to play them to get it working again. 

His fingers flew across the piano in grace only his mother could achieve, but here he was, at seventeen years old, playing Vivaldi’s Spring 1 and following it up with Ludovico Einaudi’s Experience. 

He stayed there for hours, the nuns and priests must have heard him, but they didn’t bother coming down to stop him. 

His wrist had been sore when he finally finished, his neck was aching from being bent down for so long and all he wanted was to go home. 

So he did.

He walked away from the church with much more ease, like a cage of doves had been trapped in his chest and they were finally let free when he played. 

Though when he was walking home, he felt eyes on the back of his head, but it didn’t matter to him. 

He felt alive, good, airy, something he hadn’t felt in months.


	5. Your Smile, I'm Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Whatcha doin'?" My voice was rough, drunk with sleep as I watched Dallas whip around. 
> 
> He was buckling his belt, his shirt not yet on, and I could see all the pink scars that crisscrossed against his chest, harsh against his pale skin. 
> 
> "Meetin' with the Shepards an' I gotta be there early," It was obvious Dallas was still tired by the way he curled in on himself, buckling his belt as he turned back around to face the dresser, pulling open a drawer and taking out a white shirt.
> 
> -
> 
> Comment what you liked and what you want to see next!

I groaned as the light hit my eyes, the burning of the bright light making me hiss and bury my face into the pillow, pulling the blankets up more, desperate for sleep to pull me back under into a peaceful wonderland. 

It was cold, too, despite the warm sun. A chill breeze filtered in through the cracked window as I heard rustling behind me, the sound of a belt clinking making me wake up more and freeze. 

I turned over, careful not to fall off the edge of the bed as I looked towards Dallas getting dressed, but I didn't know for what.

It was early, early enough that frost was still on the window, and nobody was honking their horns outside yet. Dallas wasn't a morning person, either.

"Whatcha doin'?" My voice was rough, drunk with sleep as I watched Dallas whip around. 

He was buckling his belt, his shirt not yet on, and I could see all the pink scars that crisscrossed against his chest, harsh against his pale skin. 

"Meetin' with the Shepards an' I gotta be there early," It was obvious Dallas was still tired by the way he curled in on himself, buckling his belt as he turned back around to face the dresser, pulling open a drawer and taking out a white shirt. 

Even more scars were on his back, some jagged and some smooth. I had tried to ask where he had gotten some, but he'd always redirect the conversation, so at one point I just stopped asking.

He pulled on the white shirt, some thread snapping, creating light pops as he pulled the shirt down to tuck into his pants. 

Dallas saw me staring, giving me a sad look before walking over, his boots and weight making the old wood creak. 

He kneeled in front of me, putting his right hand on my cheek, kissing my head. 

I tilted my head up, wanting nothing more than a kiss on the lips, but he pulled back instead. 

I frowned, sitting up more, but stopped when Dallas looked down, brushing the hair away from the back of his neck as he unclipped his St. Christophers. 

The little click of the latch was all that was heard in the silence. Dallas lifted the necklace to me. 

I shifted forward and up, shivering as the cold blanketed my bare chest as Dallas's hand brushed the back of my neck, the warmth of the chain and pendant welcoming but weird and unexpected. 

When Dallas pulled back, I could feel the weight of it on my neck as I reached my right hand up to fiddle with it. 

"Dallas, are you sure? The last person ya gave this to was Sylvia," I looked up at him, and his eyes gave the answer. 

He gazed at me with such a loving warmth that made my heart pound and flutter. 

"Of course," Dallas said, reaching up with his right hand to cup my cheek and pull me into a soft kiss. It felt so intense and pure that it felt like the first one all over again. 

Dallas pulled away, pushing his forehead against my head as his hands flattened against my chest, pushing me down. 

"I'll be back, I promise," Dallas broke away, looking straight in my eyes as he pulled his hands away, grabbing my left hand with his right and placing a gentle kiss on it. 

Dallas got up, leaving me nearly boneless in bed as he grabbed his jacket off the edge of the bed, shrugging it on and walking to the door, opening it, but before stepping out, he turned around, mouthing "I promise," to me, then leaving. 

I sighed, relaxing my shoulders against the bed and staring at the ceiling, reaching my right hand up and touching my lips like the corny movies Pony loves so much. 

A smile spread across my lips as I reached down, closing my eyes and gripping the St. Christopher's as I replayed the moments back in my head, smiling wider each time. 

I lay there for thirty minutes, just smiling and remembering the good times filled with sunshine and smiles. 

The sun filtered in more, heating the Earth and bringing more heat into the waking world as I finally decided to get up, the floor still cold as I picked out my clothes for the day. 

It was still cold out, so I just picked out one of Dal's black shirts, an old leather jacket, and some blue jeans. 

I changed quickly, going into the bathroom and applying grease to my hair, eyes darting to the occasional shift of the St. Christophers on my neck. 

It shone brightly against my neck, the silver catching the light of the sun and sparkling in the mirror.

I washed off my hands, wiping my hands on my jeans, and walking over to the door, the floor creaking under me as I pulled on my shoes next to the door. 

It was a beautiful day, and I wanted to meet Dallas at the Curtis house, so I wrote a quick note and set it on the bedside table. 

"Dallas,   
I'm safe, just went to the Curtis house. Meet me there, alright?

-Johnny"

I padded over to the door, smiling as I opened the door, stepped through the doorway, and shut it, locking it. 

The bar was nearly empty. A quietness washed through it despite the loud bass boosted country music that infected the night. 

I shoved my hands in my pockets, going down the steps and seeing Buck sweeping the floor, his dog curled up in the corner on his bed, chewing a bone. 

I smiled at the sight of the old golden retriever, waving a quick goodbye to Buck before exiting the bar and into the chilly air. 

It was spring, the flowers blooming, the air most and thick with pollen and water. 

I made my way down the sidewalk, eyes up and unafraid for the first time in years. 

My parents never would've allowed me to do this. Never would've allowed me to go a week without church or go without a cross on me. 

It felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I felt happy and free for the first time without pain. 

I passed by dozens of brightly colored shops, gazing into their windows and looking at the dozens of toy displays for children to play with, both for toddlers and babies. 

I passed music shops, pianos, and trumpets on display with shiny gold coats, catching the light to show how clean and expensive they were. 

One shop showed guitars and basses. The multicolored instruments made my fingers itch to touch, not to steal, but to play.

I shook the feeling, continuing on my walk to the Curtis house. 

From the outside, it was the most peaceful place on the block, with love, and care making it look newer and more well kept than most other homes on the block. 

I pushed through the gate, metal cold against my palms as I walked up the porch steps, pushing open the door and heading inside.

The house was quiet for once, Two-Bit watching cartoons at a reasonable level, Ponyboy reading quietly on the couch, Steve and Soda playing cards and Darry cooking away in the kitchen. 

It smelt wonderful. It smelled like bacon, syrup, eggs, and it felt like home. 

Ponyboy glanced up from his book and at Johnny and breaking out in a grin. 

"Hey, Johnnycakes!" Ponyboy greeted brightly. 

"Hey," Johnny replied, sitting next to him and watched cartoons along with Two. 

"Say, where's ya boyfriend, Johnnycakes?" Steve asked, humor lacing his voice as he slapped a card down on the table. 

Johnny blushed, still not used to the endearment, but not opposed to it. 

"Shepards. Had to meet early for something, didn't tell me what," Johnny replied, glancing at Steve and Soda in a now intense match. 

Steve nodded, smiling as he won another game of cards before being yelled at by Soda for cheating.

It felt normal again. 

They haven't had another run-in with his parents, nobody had tried to hurt them, and they were able to live their lives as before. 

"So, you and Dal doin' okay," Ponyboy looked up from his book, grabbing Johnny's attention. 

"Yeah, we're doin' pretty well," Johnny smiled at Ponyboy. 

Ponyboy could tell it was genuine. The smile had reached his eyes and radiated love, something that reminded him of his parents. 

"He gave ya his Christopher, but I just wanted to make sure," Ponyboy smiled deviously. 

Ponyboy's statement had gained the gang's attention. Darry had even popped his head out of the kitchen. 

"Holy shit," Soda cursed in amazement, gaining a glare from Darry, "He really gave you his Christopher."

"Yeah," Johnny chuckled, a large, happy smile spreading across his face, "Gave it to me this mornin'."

Two-Bit, who had turned around to look at Johnny, let out a low whistle, a wolfish smile spreading across his face. 

"Careful when buggin' with Johnnycakes cause he's got Dally wrapped around his finger," Two half-joked, earning a few chuckles. 

Johnny's mouth gaped at the statement, a blush coloring his cheeks. 

"I do not," Johnny gasped. 

"We'll see about that," Soda joked, earning a chuckle from Steve.

"No, we won't!" Darry said from the kitchen, making the gang break out in laughter. 

The group settled into a comfortable silence, Ponyboy reading, cartoons playing on the t.v., Steve and Soda had quieted their card game, and the sizzle of bacon on the stove filled the room. 

The boys lost track of time, more so focused on the good energy radiating from the room, relaxing from the stresses of the week. 

The door opening startled them all. 

In walked Dally, a solemn look on his face as he stepped into the house, greeting the gang before sitting down next to Johnny, slinging an arm over him and Johnny nuzzling into his chest.

Johnny nearly forgot he could do that now, but his worries melted away when Dallas pulled him closer. 

"The fuck ya lookin' at, Curtis?" Dallas said, humor lacing his voice as Johnny noticed Sodapop looking at them with a smile. 

"You cuddlin' with your boyfriend, Winston?" Soda mocked, which earned a sarcastic scoff from Dallas. 

"You playin' cards with yours?" Dallas shot back.

Two choked on his beer, and Darry barked a laugh from the kitchen as Steve and Soda's faces went beat red. 

"Whatever," Steve rolled his eyes, going back to his and Soda's card game. 

"Exactly," Dallas nodded, making Johnny snicker. 

Soon, breakfast was finished, everyone grabbed a plate and sat in their previous spots, Darry joining Steve and Soda at the table in their game of cards. 

"Ya know," Darry started, looking up from his food, "I'm glad you two got together. I was hoping it actually," Darrel said from his seat at the table. 

"Really?" Johnny said incredulously. He never in one-hundred years could he imagine Darrel hoping he and Dal got together, "Why?"

"You've always been each other's rocks. Whenever Dal was around you, he'd lighten and up and wouldn't be so harsh. Whenever you were around Dal, you'd be happier, like he was the one thing you needed to make you happy," Darrel explained, taking a drink of his milk when he finished. 

Both Dallas and Johnny gaped at Darry, realizing that he knew more than they thought. 

"When the fuck did you study us like this?" Dallas cursed, wide eyes still staring into Darrel's. 

Darry sent a glare Dallas's way before continuing. 

"It's easy when the toughest new guy in Tulsa becomes soft for someone he barely knew."

"Golly Dar," Johnny said, laughing as he glanced at Dal's wide eyes and blushing face. 

"Lesson learned, don't show your feelings around Darrel Shaynne Curtis," Two-Bit joked, earning a few laughs from the gang. 

The gang fell into a peaceful silence, finishing any remaining food and making small talk as the day turned to afternoon. 


	6. Replaceable (Know My Worth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At one point, Dallas even tugged Darry into a short hug. The action startled Darry, who had stiffened like a board, but laughed it off as Dallas pulled away. 
> 
> -
> 
> Not as good as my other chapter, but it'll do for the setup and new ideas are flooding in by the minute.

The night went on, and it was time for Dallas and Johnny to take their leave. The two bid their farewells, though Dallas kept his goodbyes light, though the adoration in his voice was enough to make the small group smile. Dallas showing more emotion than just anger was new, and whenever he did, everyone around him remembered and appreciated it. 

At one point, Dallas even tugged Darry into a short hug. The action startled Darry, who had stiffened like a board, but laughed it off as Dallas pulled away. 

So here they were, close together on the sidewalk, watching as cars zoomed by and hearing the shouts of parties from blocks away. It felt nice being outside, something that the two had always loved. They loved the way the breeze felt against their skin, like satin, and how sometimes rain poured on them and resembled diamond shards. 

It was colder outside. The small breeze sent chills down the couple's spines as they raced home through shops and old bars, feet thudding against the ground and breath coming out in puffs. It felt amazing to run again, laughing and pushing each other in determination to reach Buck's first, but in the end, the two tied. 

"Jesus, where did you learn to run like that?" Dallas was bent down, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. 

Johnny let out an airy laugh, mirroring Dallas's position. "Ponyboy and I race a lot. He taught me to run on the balls of my feet."

Dallas chuckled, shaking his head and straightening up to get ready to go inside. Johnny did the same, smiling as Dallas opened the door and stepped inside. 

Johnny followed, the smoke filling his lungs and the red lights washing him in red as people around him pushed and drank until they were blackout drunk. He supposed it was their way of having fun or a coping mechanism, but he wasn't one to judge. 

He followed Dallas up the stairs, passing multiple people on the way who eyed his boyfriend like candy. Hell, some even called out to Dallas, who responded in winking or glares. Johnny's stomach churned at both. 

Johnny felt panic raced through him at the thought of someone taking Dallas away from him, which would honestly be easy. Dallas couldn't flaunt Johnny around as he did with Sylvia or with other girls he'd messed around with, and he surely couldn't brag about being with Johnny unless he was looking for a beating. 

His thoughts were still racing as he followed Dallas to their apartment, shutting the door so the music wasn't so loud, but wasn't gone yet. Johnny kept his eyes on the floor, playing with the hem of his shirt as he sat on their bed, listening to Dallas pull open drawers and shed his clothes for his preferred night ones. 

Normally Johnny would do the same, but tonight he just wanted to curl in on himself. He couldn't tell why he was like this. Maybe it was the shouting or that everything smelled like whiskey, but Johnny was on edge and felt awful. He felt like how he did when he still lived with his parents. 

Dallas must've noticed because all of a sudden, Johnny snapped back to reality with Dallas kneeling between his legs, rubbing over his shoulders and arms to get his attention. 

"Hey, it's okay, time to come back now," Dallas's hands felt good rubbing down his arms. The heat from his palms was enough to pull him back and ground him. 

"What's goin' through your head right now, hun?" Dallas stroked a calloused hand down Johnny's face. The action had caused Johnny to start, flinching as the hand made contact. 

"Hey, what's goin' on, you okay?" Dallas pulled his hand back, setting it down on Johnny's knee instead, keeping his hands in plain view for him. 

"I don't know why I feel like this, Dal. Feels like you're just gonna leave me or someone's gonna take you from me. Feels like I'm back livin' with my parents," Johnny's voice shook, his muscles trembled as stinging tears brimmed his eyes, and shame shone red on his face.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Dallas cupped Johnny's jaw in his right hand, guiding his head to look him straight in the eyes. "I ain't gonna leave ya, I'm right here. You ain't there no more, and you ain't gotta worry about your parent's anymore either," Dallas soothed, rubbing a thumb along Johnny's jaw and one up and down Johnny's arm. 

Johnny felt like he was suffocating like he needed to run or get out, but Johnny also felt like he needed to stay. He needed to stay for Dallas, knew that he wouldn't last without him, nor would Johnny last without Dallas.

Johnny nodded, a few tears falling down his face at the action. He felt bruised, despite being fully healed, and he felt disposable like he was easily replaced. 

"You wanna get undressed?" Johnny usually slept in a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt. He could barely sleep with clothes on, but right now, all he wanted to do was bundle up. 

"No," Johnny said quietly, shaking his head, the action causing his hair to fall in his eyes. 

"Okay," Dally said, standing up and stepped back to strip his shirt to throw in the hamper next to the bed. Johnny kicked off his shoes, pulling the jacket closer to his body as he laid down on the bed, arms crossed over himself like a hug. 

Deep down, Johnny knew that Dallas would never leave him, but the thoughts of him leaving Johnny for someone else still shook him to his core. 

Johnny felt the bed sink down next to him, Dallas clad in only his boxers and a tank top as he scoots towards Johnny, rubbing a hand down his chest to find his hands where they're holding onto the sides of the jacket. Slowly, Dallas grabbed Johnny's hand, holding it and rubbing the top of Johnny's hand with his thumb. 

"You're okay now, nobody's gonna come and take me away, okay?" Johnny could see the look Dallas was giving him, one full of promise. 

"Okay," Johnny nodded, turning to face Dallas, slinging an arm over him as Dallas pulled him close. 

"This okay?" Dallas kissed the top of his head, arms enveloping Johnny. 

"Yeah," Johnny whispered against Dallas's chest. He knew that Dallas would want Johnny to tell him more later, but for now, the two lie in silence, eventually dozing off into the welcoming night. 


	7. Work Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you need a little reassurance that you're enough.

The two woke up slowly like they did every other day. It was full of soft kisses, smiles, and laughs as they just enjoyed living, being together. They had broken down nearly every wall together, ones that did more harm than good. They felt more open this way. It felt good. They rose at nine, though leaving the warmth of another was something that they struggled with every morning, but it was worth it to take a nice shower. When Dallas left this morning for a shower, Johnny felt an uneasiness creep over him like the night before. It felt like when he would get called into the principles office at school, the feeling clawed at his chest and invited choked sobs afterward.

Johnny slowly got out of bed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed first, remembering how he'd never even tried to undress before sleeping, and he was hot and nearly sweaty. He felt gross, more than usual. Despite the feeling, he tugged his clothes closer to his body as he got up, head down as he reached the dresser on the other side of the room. Johnny tried his best to focus on the sound of running water. But even that didn't soothe his thoughts of what to wear. He didn't want to wear something tight-fitting, nor did he want to wear something heavy. 

Distantly, Johnny could hear the water shutting off and thumping footsteps behind him, but he couldn't bring it in himself to respond. He stayed where he was standing. He didn't know why he was overthinking everything again, especially after the peaceful morning. 

Dallas wrapped his arms around Johnny, nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck before pulling away, sensing his lover's discomfort. 

"What's wrong?" Dallas said. His voice was still rough from sleep, and concern laced his voice. It must've been the same thing that had caused him to get so sheltered off last night, but their morning had been so lovely, calm. 

"Ain't nothin', Dal," Johnny spoke. His voice was hoarse and wet. 

"Then why're ya fussin' over clothes?" Dallas kept his arms around Johnny's middle, rubbing over his sides. 

"Ain't fussin' over nothin', Dal. Just havin' trouble pickin' out what I wanted to wear, that's all," Johnny turned around, wrapping his arms around Dallas's middle. He felt embarrassed by Dallas's stare, though he's seen him in more embarrassing positions, hell, even naked, so why have his cheeks flushed red now? 

"You wear a neutral-colored shirt, jeans, and a jacket every day so, why are you so flustered today?" Dallas raised one eyebrow, concern lacing his face. 

"I don't know," Johnny shook his head, tucking it in Dallas's neck, hoping he understood. Somedays, Johnny just woke up feeling worthless. Maybe it was the years of nasty comments from his parents and teachers, or just that he didn't like how he looked. Thoughts would run around in his head, ones that left him feeling like he needed more layers. 

"Common," Dallas ushered Johnny to their bed, their steps creaking under their weight as Dallas sat on the bed, pulling a still standing Johnny between his legs. 

"Dal, we should get dressed or somethin'," Johnny said, looking away from his lover. 

"No, tell me what's goin' on," Johnny thought back to when they were still so hesitant to be around each other. Back when he was so closed off and cursing himself for even looking at anyone deemed attractive. 

"You know how someday's ya wake up angry? I wake up, golly I dunno, embarrassed?" Johnny's cheeks flushed. His body was telling him to flee like he wanted to do that very night. 

Thankfully, Dallas seemed to understand. Pulling him close into a hug caused Johnny to stumble a little to find footing. Johnny had to kneel on the bed, legs bracketing Dallas's waist as he pretty much sat in his lap. 

"You're amazing, Johnny. You're healing, and I'm proud of you for trusting me. I love you," The last sentence was whispered against Johnny's chest as if Dallas didn't want Johnny to hear it. It spread warmth through Johnny's chest that ruptured with a small smile. 

"I love you, too," Johnny's hands rubbed Dallas's shoulders that stiffened as he took in Johnny's words. 

"You weren't supposed to hear that," Dallas laughed nervously against Johnny's chest, looking down. 

"No worries," Johnny pulled away, hand going under Dallas's chin to make Dallas lookup. "Kiss?"

The two joined in a kiss, sweet and full of life as they comforted each other. Dallas pulled Johnny down and to the side, tackling him in a hug as they splayed out on the bed. Johnny broke away with a laugh, playfully slapping Dallas on the back. 

"Get off you ass!" Johnny playfully scolded, earning him a laugh from Dallas. 

"Yeah no, we're stayin' here for the rest of the day whether ya like it or not," Dallas smiled, giving Johnny a small kiss. 

"Alright alright." The two spent hours in bed, sharing small kisses, memories, and jokes. The morning tenseness had dissipated from Johnny's shoulders as Dallas coaxed it out with each endearment. 


End file.
